The Good Samaritan is one of the best-known and most-loved parables of Jesus, yet the real story begins before the parable’s first telling. A lawyer came to “test” Jesus. This parable was Jesus’ response to the lawyer’s questions. This lawyer was seeking perhaps the greatest possession imaginable—eternal life.
“Teacher,” the lawyer asked, “what must I do to inherit eternal life?”
“What is written in the Law?” Jesus replied.
The lawyer answered, “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind’; and ‘Love your neighbour as yourself.’”
“You have answered correctly,” Jesus replied. “Do this and you will live.”
Next comes the question that segues into the story of the Good Samaritan. “And who is my neighbour?” asked the lawyer. As a teacher, my first response is, “Good question Mr Lawyer. I’m glad you asked.” Yet there is more than meets the eye in this lawyer’s question. Luke 10:29 states that the lawyer asked this question because “he wanted to justify himself”. What’s that about?
Theologian Michelle Barnewall suggests that “The lawyer’s question implies that he thinks there is such a thing as a non-neighbour—in other words, someone to whom he does not need to extend mercy and compassion.”1 Ah! That adds an interesting twist to the matter. Yes. I want eternal life and that depends on me loving my neighbour. So, I want to make sure that the person I hate and loathe is not in my neighbour group. That way I can continue to love just those whom I want to love without jeopardising my inheritance of eternal life. Great deal!
New Testament scholar John Dominic Crossan reminds us that this parable is a challenge parable “because it reverses the expectations and judgements, the presuppositions and prejudices”.2 First-century Jewish ears were confronted with estrangement that had “hardened into ethnic, political and religious animosity within the land of Israel”.3 Think of the story in Luke 9:52-56 when some messengers were sent ahead into a Samaritan village to get things ready for Jesus. The people did not welcome the messengers because Jesus was heading for Jerusalem. When James and John saw this, they asked, “Lord, do you want us to call fire down from heaven to destroy them?” Let’s just say that there was no love lost between Jews and Samaritans.
Couple this tension with Jesus’ presentation mode of parable and we see that while the Good Samaritan story can be read in less than one minute, it probably engaged Jesus’ audience for much longer. “An oral audience would have interrupted him with questions and objections, comments and disagreements.”4
What story would challenge us to rethink that important question, “Who is my neighbour?” With the help of ChatGPT, I have created a modern-day parable that amplifies the real-life tensions exposed in this parable—tensions that beg for resolution through the process of radical compassion that crosses lines of hostility, in our current world context. But beware! Challenge parables are “tiny pins dangerously close to big balloons. They push or pull us into pondering whatever is taken for granted in our world—in its cultural customs, social relations, traditional politics and religious traditions.”5
Big balloons are visible and colourful, yet fragile. The balloons of positioning, prejudice, theatrics and ego—if they burst, that might just turn out to be the best possible scenario, providing an opportunity for a deep rethink about what truly matters. Gillies Ambler6 thinks of challenge parables as “hand grenade” stories—you inquisitively pull out the pin and the story explodes in your being. Once that happens, you are never the same. That sounds deadly, and it is, but only to the big balloons. What big balloons do you flaunt or parade? Let’s pull the pin . . .
Narrator: A young Israeli man was travelling alone near the border, visiting a relative in a kibbutz near Gaza. On his way home, his car was caught in a sudden rocket attack. Shrapnel tore through the vehicle. Bleeding and barely conscious, he stumbled out and collapsed in a ditch by the side of the road.
Audience member: “Why was he even near Gaza? Foolish!”
Another voice: “He was visiting family! What, are we supposed to abandon the South now too?”
Narrator: A Rabbi came by. He saw the wreckage, saw the man, and hesitated. Then he said to himself, It’s not safe—someone else will help him, and drove on.
Heckler: “Selfish coward! That’s not how we do things.”
Another: “Hey, would you stop if there might be another rocket? Don’t judge so quickly.”
Narrator: A second came—a settler from the West Bank. He slowed down, saw the wounded man, then muttered, “Probably got what was coming, driving near Gaza like that”, and drove away.
Loud shout: “Hey! Not all settlers think like that! That’s a smear!”
Another voice, sarcastic: “Unless he’s Arab, then maybe they stop?”
Narrator: But then came a Palestinian doctor, crossing the checkpoint to volunteer at a medical clinic. He saw the wounded Israeli and stopped. Despite the risk of being mistaken for a threat, despite knowing he could be accused of aiding the enemy, he got out.
Heckler (mocking): “Yeah right. Probably finishing the job, not helping.”
Calm voice: “No, I’ve heard of this—some of them really do help. I’ve seen it with my own eyes.”
Narrator: The doctor applied a tourniquet, stabilised the man and drove him to the nearest hospital—an Israeli hospital—where he stayed until the man’s family arrived.
Sceptical shout: “And security just let him waltz in? Give me a break.”
Defensive voice: “He’s a doctor, not a terrorist. Some of them risk more than we ever will.”
Narrator: When people asked him later why he helped someone from the other side, he said, “When I looked at him, I didn’t see a soldier or an enemy. I saw a man bleeding, and I remembered what I swore when I became a doctor—to preserve life, no matter whose.”
Quiet voice: “That’s the kind of courage we need more of.”
Angry voice: “Nice speech. But one hand heals, the other launches rockets. You still trust them?”
Firm reply: “Maybe we start by trusting one hand at a time.”
Final Narrator Reflection (over the noise): So, I ask you—not who was from our side, or who was right. I ask: Who was the neighbour?
One person whispers: “The one who showed mercy.”
Can you imagine Jesus sharing this parable in today’s Israel? What a challenge this story would be to the listeners’ ears. Would Jesus be run out of town? Or worse? What Good Samaritan story context would raise my ire? And how would you respond?
It is easy to love those who look like us, think like us and live like us. It costs nothing to be kind to those we already call friend. But mercy—real mercy—is when we lower our guard to help the one we’ve been told to fear.
As Bob Dylan challenges, “Yes, and how many times can a man turn his head, and pretend that he just doesn’t see?”7 Every generation must ask: Are we brave enough to see a stranger as our brother or sister? Or do we let the walls between us grow taller with each wound?
Just like the Good Samaritan, that doctor didn’t erase the war. He didn’t change the headlines. But in that one moment, he did something no government could do—he reminded us that our enemy is still a human being—a challenge for many of us. Is that a challenge for you?
Perhaps it is time to revisit this parable in our present world context. Are we any different to the Jews and Samaritans of Jesus’ times? We see geopolitical conflict between Ukraine and Russia. Ethnic/nationalist conflict between ethnic Albanians and Serb minorities. Ethnic and religious clashes in Nigeria between Christian farming communities and Muslim Fulani herders. And closer to home, we experience divides that separate us in our own extended families and workplaces. Can we see our enemy as a human being? Perhaps that, maybe, is where peace can take root and grow, like a mustard seed, watered by kindness.
- Going Deeper in the Parable of the Good Samaritan, by Michelle Barnewall, January 25, 2021. <biola.edu/blogs/good-book-blog/2021/going-deeper-in-the-parable-of-the-good-samaritan>
- John Dominic Crossan, The Power of Parable (London: SPCK Publishing, 2012), 56.
- Ibid., 60-61.
- Ibid., 90.
- Ibid., 62.
- Dr GM Ambler, personal communication, July 4, 2025.
- Words from the Bob Dylan song, “Blowin’ In the Wind”.
Craig Mattner is a mathematics and religion teacher at Prescott College, SA.
